Broken Vows
by medeamagic
Summary: Jon Snow agrees to King Stannis' offer and becomes Lord of Winterfell.
1. Chapter 1

**Jon**

Lady Melisandre was awaiting him at the base of the Wall. The Lady was all red. Red silk dress, red eyes and red lips. _Kissed by fire_ , like Ygritte.

"What does His Grace want of me?" he asked her, brushing away those sad memories.

The woman smiled."All you have to give, Jon Snow. He is our King."

Her words meant nothing to him, but he accepted them nonetheless. Nodding his head he shut the door and pulled at the bell cord. Soon the winch began to turn and they were hoisted upwards. Trying to ignore the Red Woman's presence Jon let his gaze wander over the distant landscape.

After a while he turned his attention back to the Lady. She smiled, even though the sharp wind was howling around them.

"Are you not cold?" he asked, lacking a topic to converse about.

She only laughed.

"Never," she replied and touched the ruby around her neck."The Lords' fire lives within me, Jon Snow."

Then she leaned closer and touched his cheeks. Her hands were warm, even hot.

"That is how life should feel. Only death is cold."

Jon swallowed hard and left her there, making his way towards the King overseeing the pattern of forests and snow.

"I bring you the Bastard of Winterfell, Your Grace," Lady Melisandre informed him and folded her hands before her.

Jon knew what was demanded of him and knelt, before the grim King.

"Rise. I have heard much of you, Lord Snow."

"I am no _Lord_ ," Jon was quick to reply and rose back to his feet, „but I know what you have heard. That I am a turncloak, that I shed the blood of my brother Qhorin Halfhand to appease the Widlings, that I rode with Mance Ryder and took a Wildling as a wife."

"I heard much more. That you are a warg that walks at night taking the form of a wolf," the King added and turned around."How much of it is true, I wonder?"

Thinking of Ghost filled him with a deep longing.

"I had a direwolf named Ghost, but I left him behind before I climbed the Wall in company of the Wildlings. Qhorin Halfhand commanded me to join the Wildlings. He knew they would make me kill him to prove myself and told me to do whatever they asked of me. The Wildling girl I lay with was named Ygritte, but I swear that I never turned my cloak

It was a lie. He cared for her and and that was the truth, but admitting it would cost him his head.

"I believe you, _Lord Snow_ ," the King replied."Most of it are lies made up by this Janos Slynt. I know him and I also knew your father. He didn't love more nor did I love him, but lying was not his way. You have his look and his bearing. I also know that it was you who found the dragonglass dagger used by Lord Tarly's son to slay the Other."

 _Another lie._

"It was Ghost who found it, wrapped up in a ranger's cloak and buried beneath the Fist of the First Men."

"I also know that you held the gate," the King added, ignoring his words of objection.

"Donal Noye held the gate," Jon corrected him.

A dark look reminiscent of sadness washed over the King's features."Noye was a good man and would have made a good Lord Commander, but the gods didn't seem fit to spare his life."

"Cotter Pyke and Ser Denys Mallisters are good men in their own right. Lord Commander Mormont trusted each of them."

"He did and died for his trust. Besides, we are here to speak about you. I have not forgotten that it was you who brought us the magic horn and captured Mance Ryder's wife and son.

"Dalla died and her babe didn't require much capturing. Not much of a feat," Jon replied, wondering where this talk was going.

The King sighed and straightened the brooch on his cloak. It was a flaming heart.

"As I said…your father was no friend of mine, but I saw his worth. Your brother was a rebel and traitor who meant to steal half my kingdom, but no man can question his courage. What of you?"

Jon was taken back, unable to find the right answer."I am a brother sworn to the Night's Watch."

The King grounded his teeth."Do you know why I sailed to the Wall, _Lord Snow_?"

"I am no _Lord_ ," he insisted, „and you came because we sent for you, thought sooner would have been preferable."

The King smiled.

"You are bold to say so, but you are not wrong. It was Ser Davos Seaworth who reminded me of my duty when all I could think of was my right to the Iron Throne, but now where my future lies," he said and let his gaze sweep over the landscape."It is here in the North where I will find the foe that I am fated to fight."

"You shouldn't speak his name," Lady Melisandre added almost gently."He is the God of Night and Terror and these Others are his creatures."

"I heard you slew one to save Lord Commander Mormont's life," the King added."Maybe you are fated to fight them as well. You might be able to help me shoulder this fate."

Jon trembled, knowing what the King meant to say, but unable to allow it to enter his thoughts.

"I swore a vow, your Grace," Jon Snow replied matter-of-factly.

"I have no need of your vows, but the North," The King explained plainly.

Jon felt liked slapped."My brother was King in the North."

"Your brother was the rightful heir of Winterfell, but nothing more. If he had stayed home instead of crowning himself he might sill be among us, but that is not so."

Jon gritted his teeth, Robb's face swimming before his eyes. It was the last memory of his brother. He as smiling and snowflakes were melting in his red locks. _Farewell, Snow_ , he had said.

"That is not so," Jon confirmed, lifting his head to meet the King's bottomless blue gaze.

"No, but that is why I need someone to take his position as Lord of Winterfell. A loyal Lord of Winterfell."

 _He is speaking about me_ , he knew, but could scarcely believe it. The world before him was growing distant, snowflakes blurring his sight.

"I am a Snow not a Stark, your Grace," he replied all too weakly.

"A King can remove the taint of bastardy with a stroke, Lord Snow," the Lady Melisandre added softly and touched his arm.

"I also swore a vow," he replied."I knelt before the heart tree and swore to hold no lands and father no children."

The Lady leaned closer, the warmth of her hand burning on his skin."There is only one true god. A vow sworn to a tree has no more power than one sworn to a stone. Open your heart to the Lord of Light and burn…," she explained, but Jon cut her off before she was able to continue.

"I cannot burn them…the Lords of the North would curse me," he replied more sharply than intended.

The King gave him a grim look.

"The Lady was trying to be helpful, _but_ I won't force you to burn the holy trees of your people. I have need of both the Northern Lords and the Wildlings. I may be mistaken about you or not, but you are what the Lord of Light has given me and I mean to make use of you. I killed a thousand of wildlings, took another thousand captive and scattered the rest, but we both know they will return. Lady Melisandre has seen it in the fires."

"What you say is true," Jon confirmed.

"I have spoken to Mance Ryder and I have no other choice, but to give him to the flames. Ye there are other captives like this Magnar of Thenn and this Lord of Bones. Your brothers are already grumbling about my plans for the Wildlings. I will ask of them to pledge fealty to me and take the Lord of Light as their god. Then I intend to settle them in the Gift, once I have acquired it from your new Lord Commander. Yet that is not enough. It is time to form an allegiance between the North and the Wildlings."

 _Father dreamed of resettling the gift_ , Jon knew and nodded his head in agreement."

The King seemed pleased by this and continued."That is why mean to wed my Lord of Winterfell to this Wildling Princess."

The idea was absurd, but then King Stannis knew nothing of the ways of the Wildlings.

"You cannot give her to me. The man who intends to marry her would have to steal her first."

The King scoffed."I care no how you do it, but the match is necessary to assure the loyalty of our new subjects. Now, tell me. Are you refusing me, _Lord Snow_?"

Jon kept his answer vague.

"I will need time to think about it," he told the King."Will you grant it, your Grace?"

The King gave him an accepting nod."I will, but know that I am not a very patient man."

The same day Jon Snow rode out to visit the heart tree where he once swore his vow. He settled down beneath the tree, listening to the whispering of the wind and the cracking snow, hoping to receive an answer. Yet in the end it was only the Lady Melisandre that came to see him in his self-imposed loneliness.

How she found her way here was a mystery to him too.

"Lord Snow," she said softly and came to stand before him."Are you not cold?"

It sounded as if she was chiding him, but Jon didn't trust her false friendliness.

"I am used to it," he replied more sharply than intended, though his rudeness didn't seem to bother her.

"What brings you here, my Lady?"

She smiled and folded her arms in front of her.

"You told the King that you are in need of time, but time is not something we can afford to waste. I watched my fires Lord Snow…I saw darkness gathering in the North, both in inhuman and human form and you and my King are the only ones able to face these dangers," she explained and kneeled down before him. Her hands felt warm on his cheeks.

"I saw more than that…I saw a brown-haired girl clad in a grey dress embellished with a direwolf…weeping and crying out for help. I saw her wedding under a heart tree in the burned walls of a great grey castle…I saw a man with the name Snow lay a pink maiden cloak around her shoulders…," she whispered to him as if he was a child in need of a lullaby, yet none of her words brought him comfort.

"Arya…," he stuttered."My sister…marrying the Bastard of Bolton."

"Did the fires ever lie to you, my Lady?" he asked in a pleading tone.

She gave him a sad smile and leaned down to kiss his cheek.

"The Lord of Light showed me these visions for a reason," she replied and rose back to her feet.

Then another smile crossed over her crimson lips."There is another matter. My King worries about elections. He fears that he will find an enemy in the next Lord Commander."

"Janos Slynt would banish him from the Wall, but Cotter Pyke and Ser Denys Mallister are both good men."

The Lady nodded her head."And who of those two good men would be more likely in favor of my King's mission?"

Jon didn't know why she wanted to know all this, but he gave his honest answer.

"Probably Ser Denys Mallister. Cotter Pyke is a good man, but he doesn't like your King very much."

"I thank you then, Lord Snow," she replied with a knowing smile and left him to himself.

Jon remained and soon his bones started to feel numb. At one point he fell asleep, until he was woken by something wet brushing over his cheek.

Opening his eyes he found a pair of ruby eyes staring back at him.

"Ghost," he realized and brushed his hand through his white fur. Then he embraced the wolf, pondering over the visions.

 _Arya_ , he thought and felt tears burning in his eyes. _Arya is all that is left to me_. _How can I abandon her, father?_

…


	2. Chapter 2

**Val**

She watched the crows burning their departed brother. Val forgot his name, but she knew that he was an important person to the crows.

 _He was running for the position of Lord Commander_ , Jon Snow's friend Sam had told them when he came to visit Gilly. _Now they are only two men left. Old Ser Denys Mallister and this Janos Slynt._

To Val these names meant nothing, but Sam was very concerned about it. He spent hours talking about it with Gilly, though Val doubted that the girl understood everything he was telling her. The ways of the crows were as strange to her as to Val.

"I think he is full," Gilly remarked softly, rocking Val's nephew in her arms. Her own was sleeping peacefully. At first they feared that there won't be enough milk for both of them, but they soon realized that their fear was unfounded. Gilly had more than enough milk for both of them.

Val nodded her and kneeled down next to Gilly, glancing down at the small boy. It was hard to tell if he favored after Mance or Dalla, but she supposed that was common for babies his age. Yet she doubted that Mance would eve care about such crude things. He would only care about holding his son in his arms, but that was another thing the kneeler King denies him.

Mercy was another thing the King denies him, though it is no surprise to her that the King and the crows want to see him die.

 _He broke his vows_ , Jon Snow had explained to her when she cursed the King. _He is an oathbreaker._

 _You crows love your vows_ , she had answered and still angered that the kneeler King's didn't even allow Mance to see his own son. Afterwards she felt a little ashamed of herself. Jon Snow had been nothing but kind to her so far. When Ygritte brought him before Mance she didn't know what to make of him. Back then he was a pale-faced boy in crows's clothing, but now he was a grown man.

 _Sharp_. That was the way she would describe his demeanor. Sharp like the rippled dark blade he likes to carry around with him day and night.

"You look unhappy," Gilly remarked.

Val smiled and squeezed the girl's shoulder."The kneeler King wants to burn Mance, or that is what I heard his knights whisper among each other. This Lady Melisandre wants to give him to the fire. Fire is the cleanest death they say."

Gilly's eyes widened in fear."That is cruel of the King. Sam said he is going to help us, but now I am not sure…"

Val snorted.

"He wants my people to kneel to him. That is why he wants to burn Mance…to break our resolve."

"Sam told me something different," she countered meekly and lifted Val's nephew back into her arms, before picking up her own boy."He said the King wants to grant your people lands in exchange for your loyalty or something like that...Sam always uses such complicated words.

Val didn't know what to make of the King's plans, but Gilly's affection for the chubby boy warmed her heart. More than once the girl confessed to her that she wants to take the boy to bed, but that she also fears his refusal.

 _Sam takes those vows very seriously_ , she had told her.

Jon Snow does as well, though he broke them for Ygritte or better said she forced him to break them. Not that it surprised her. Ygritte was always the kind of person who took what she desired.

Jarl was similar and as if fated willed it the both of them found an early grave.

 _Now I will have to wed one of those kneeler knights_ , she knew and frowned, before turning back to Gilly.

"Giving us lands is one thing, but swearing loyalty is another. It means he expects us to fight against his enemies. For many of us this would mean certain death."

"But if your people remain beyond the Wall they will die too," Gilly argued clutching her babe tightly to her chest."They are going to come for your people…I saw them too."

Val nodded her head in agreement and patted. Blue eyes of frost were blinking before her in that moment and she shivered.

Val saw them herself, but never fought them. They come at night when it is the coldest and their breath is sharp as ice. Just mentioning them could frighten every Wilding child into obeying their mother.

"They are terrifying, but my people are a prideful lot…," Val wanted to add, but then the door opened. It was one of the kneeler knights.

 _Ser Massey_ , she recalled his name. He was a large man, graced with a mop of blond hair and blue eyes.

"My ladies," the knight greeted and dropped his head, an easy smile playing on his lips."I hope I am no bother?"

Val tried to remain polite and dropped her head a little. She knew that he expected more than that, but that was all he would get from her unless his kneeler King allowed Mance to hold his son in his arms.

"No bother," she replied quickly."What do you want?"

"His Grace expects you to attend the funeral feast held in honor of the departed brother Cotter Pyke," he explained."An exception is not possible."

Being paraded around by the kneeler King was the last thing she wanted, but then there was her nephew and Mance. _Maybe he will reconsider his decision if I show myself willing._

 _For my nephew's sake_ , she told herself and forced a smile on her lips."

"I will do so if that is what your King expects," she replied in cold politeness and patted on her grey woolen tunic and pants."Will this be appropriate or do I have to change?"

Ser Massey seemed pleased by her answer and gave her a smile.

"Our King doesn't care for such things. Besides, you are a Princess of the Free Folk. I have seen many of your womenfolk wearing such garb."

"That is good to hear," she replied."I assume you are my attendant?"

The man nodded his head."I am, but it would be appropriate for you to be accompanied by another female companion."

She sighed, trying to wrap her head around those strange traditions.

"Well, then Gilly will come with me," she answered and jerked her head at the clueless girl."Will she be appropriate enough?"

The man paled and gave her a strange look. It was the kind of look her kind always received whenever they did something that went against the pretty traditions of these southron lords.

"She is your sister's wetnurse…someone of a higher position would be more appropriate," he explained, but Val could only wrinkle her brows.

"I don't understand...the other Wildlings are my brothers and sisters and Gilly is now one of us."

The man gave her another strange look and an uneasy smile crossed over his lips."My Lady…you are a Princess…," he began, but Val cut him off.

"Your King made me into that, but such names do not mean anything among the Free Folk. We named Mance our King, but that doesn't mean he considers himself above our brothers and sisters. He knows that he can be unnamed if he acts against our interests."

The man sighed and ruffled through his mob of pale blond hair.

"My Lady, I am only serving my King…," he began and looked over to Gilly, who sat there in utter silence. Then he shook his head as if to reconsider his words."Very well, bring her to the feast if you deem her appropriate."

Val was glad for it and gave Gilly a smile."Did you hear…we are going to a feast?"

A gentle smile crossed over her lips."I see… I hope Sam is there."

It was an hour later that Ser Massey escorted them into the _Shieldhall_ where the funeral feast was to be held. It was a long hall made of dark stone with tables placed on each side and on the front. There at the high table sat the kneeler King, his Red Woman and two other familiar faces. One was the old Maester Aemon and the other one he hard-faced man who wanted to execute Lord Snow.

 _Alliser Thorne_ , she recalled and settled down next Gilly. Val felt more than out of place among these men. Their mistrustful looks told her everything she needed to know. Especially, Alliser Thorne was flashing her piercing looks at her as if he wished for nothing more than to cut her apart. Val knew men like him, all bitter and fixed in their opinions about the world.

Straightening herself she flashed him a smile and received an even darker look. It was a small triumph, but better than nothing.

The feast proceeded like most feast. There was ale, bread and meat served among the guests. Later one of the younger brothers came forward and played a song on his lute, which earned him laughter and clapping from his brothers. The happy melody made he King frown, but he made no attempt to send the boy on his way.

"That was beautiful," Gilly remarked gently and leaned closer. Then she lifted her finger and pointed over to Sam, „but Sam sings even better. You should hear him. His voice is so soft it could even put a giant to sleep."

"Next time we will ask him to sing for the babes," she added and spotted Lord Snow joining Sam's side. There was a ghost of a smile tugging on his lips, but the rest of his face was frozen in it's usual expression of glumness.

Val wanted to add something to her words, but then the kneeler King demanded their attention. He, his knights and the Red Woman stood out against the black-garbed brothers not only in their garb, but also in their demeanor. The crows glowered at the King, but the knights stood all straight to attention like a group of well-trained pets.

"King Stannis demands your attention!" one of the knights announced loudly. Then the grim kneeler King rose from his seat and let his bottomless gaze sweep over the crowd of people.

"Tomorrow a new Lord Commander will be chosen," he declared in a cold tone, his gaze wandering over to Lord Snow, „but there is more. I intend to retake the North from the Boltons, but to accomplish this task I am in need of a Lord of Winterfell. Lord Snow is the last living son of Eddard Stark and thus I will use of him. His vows were spoken in earnest, but a King can remove those vows in times of need," the King continued and paused, allowing his words to sink in.

Val was stunned and listened to the hushed whispers of the crows. She heard surprise, dislike and anger alike.

It was no surprise her when the glowering Alliser Thorne rose to his feet and made his disapproval known.

"Your Grace," he spoke."What does a vow matter if it can be removed at a King's convenience?"

She heard claps of approval, but the King seemed unaffected by the man's resistance.

"I explained the need for my actions, Ser Alliser," the King insisted." Without me the Night's Watch would be dead. The times have changed and the men of the Night's Watch have to change with it if they wish to survive the coming winter."

Then he turned back to the rest of the audience."We are besieged by enemies, both in the North and South. The Boltons will not lift a finger to aide the Night's Watch and the true enemy lurking beyond the Wall will not care for your vows. The Wildlings may have been our enemies, but I intend to make them faithful subjects of the realm. Curse me as much as I will, but I also know my duty. It is to protect my kingdom from the enemy lurking beyond the Wall. We both serve to protect the realms of men."

There was clapping heard from his knights and even a few crows joined in, but Ser Alliser was a stubborn man and not yet ready to give in.

"The Night's Watch has been fighting the Wildlings for thousands of years, your Grace," Ser Alliser growled, „If we allow them past the Wall the whole North will curse us."

"They will not," Jon added more sharply and rose to his feet."Not if I make them understand. I intend to call them here and make our plans known to them. My father's lords are stubborn, but not without reason. There has to be a way to make peace with the Wildlings."

"They raped and plundered our lands for thousands of years!" Ser Alliser replied through gritted teeth, his eyes fixed on Lord Snow.

"And now they are fleeing from the same enemy that will be coming for us," Lord Snow countered, not flinching under the man's hateful gaze."The Others are our common enemy. Many of your brothers them at the Fist of the First Men and Lord Commander Mormont was nearly killed by one of their servants. Thousands of Wildlings means thousand of such creatures. How will we fight them with only a few hundred brothers at our disposal?"

Ser Alliser was about to retort something when old Master Aemon raised his voice.

It was the voice of an old man, cracking like faded paper."There is truth in Lord Snow's words. I might not agree with his choice, but I am not the one who will be fighting against the Others. I am too old and brittle and I fear I will not live far into winter, but I believe those who told me about the Others. Thus I agree to with the King's proposal, though I doubt he will care much for the council of an old man like me."

The King gave the old man a quiet nod, before shifting his attention back to Ser Alliser."Do you have more to add, Sir?"

Ser Alliser grounded his teeth and settled down again.

Then the King turned back to Lord Snow.

"Now Lord Snow," the King declared."I ask you again. Will you pledge your sword to me?"

Val, Gilly and all the others watched in silence as Lord Snow stepped before the King, his cloak swishing after him like a dark shadow.

Then Lord Snow knelt down before the King, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword and his head slightly bowed.

Even from here she saw the tension in his body.

"I pledge your sword to you, your Grace," Lord Snow's firm and quiet voice rang through the hall, before dying in the emptiness of the room.

Whether the kneeler King was pleased about this was hard to say. His face was not meant for smiling.

"Then rise!" the King replied."Rise, as Jon Stark, Lord of Winterfell."

Thus Lord Snow rose, though even from here Val could see the discomfort written on his face. _Why did he forsake his precious vows_ , she wondered and watched him leave. Sam and several of his friends joined his side as if to shield him from the hostile looks of Alliser Thorne. Most of them laughed and patted Lord Snow's shoulders as they left the hall.

"I think we should leave as well," she remarked and took Gilly's hand, leading her along. _It would have been so easy to slip away_ , she thought until Ser Massey stopped their escape.

"Is it time to return to my prison?" she asked.

Ser Massey gave her an uneasy smile and jerked his head towards the kneeler King."My King wishes to speak alone with you, my Lady.

She rolled her eyes at her title, but didn't dare to refuse.

"If that is what your King wishes, I will do it."

The knight smiled and pointed ahead."Please follow me. It is a rather delicate matter and thus we should seek out a more private location."

She followed him along the gloomy unwashed corridors, leading into some a private solar.

The kneeler King was awaiting here there with his hands clasped behind his back.

"I thank you Ser Massey," he told the knight and dismissed him with a quiet not, before shifting his attention back to her.

"You heard my plans for your people…I intend to unite the Northern Lords and the Wildlings against our common enemy and thus I turned Lord Snow into Lord Stark, but I fear that won't be enough. Two mark this new allegiance I intend to wed you to Lord Stark."

Val was stunned, but there was also anger. She held no dislike for Lord Snow…Lord Stark, but she was still a woman of the Free Folk. No kneeler King can force her to do anything against her will.

"My people will not accept it unless Lord Stark steals me," she explained, but the King remained unimpressed by her words.

"Lord Stark told me so much," the King countered and stepped closer, „but I also recall that Lord Stark had already captured you, Mance and the babe when my men came to defeat your people."

Val's cheeks started to glow with warmth.

"I…," she stuttered like a silly maid, feeling ashamed of herself. _Dalla would laugh at me if she could see me like that_.

"I intend to make the Wildlings into valuable allies and that means I will respect your strange traditions. Do as it is demanded by your people's custom, but do it quickly. Your King's death is already settled."

Val froze, fear washing over her. _I need to ask now or never._

"Your Grace," she forced the words over her lips."I agree to your proposal, but there is one condition."

The King grounded his teeth in displeasure."Speak, but speak quickly."

"My sister's husband has yet to see his son. Allow him to hold him before he faces death."

A heavy silence followed until the King gave her his decision.

"I agree. Once you are wed I will have the boy brought to Mance Ryder. He will have several days to say his farewells. Nobody shall call Stannis Baratheon a heartless man."

"I thank you," she replied forcefully and left the kneeler King.

Gilly was feeding her boy when she returned.

"You look rattled," she remarked with a dying smile."Was the King cruel?"

She closed the door and made her way over to the furs, searching for her hidden dagger. It was a simple weapon carved out of bone and covered in numerous spirals.

"What are you doing?" Gilly asked when she came to her side.

Val looked up and gave her a sly smile."I am going to steal Lord Stark."

…


	3. Chapter 3

**Jon**

Jon Stark was not meant to use his old sleeping place and thus he was settled in one of the old guest rooms meant for visitors. It was only fitting he supposed as he was no longer a brother of the Night's Watch, but Lord Stark.

It was everything he ever wanted, but he felt no happiness. There was only anger and shame.

 _This time I truly broke my vow_ , he thought. _But I didn't break them for Ygritte, but for Arya…for a nebulous vision given to me by Lady Melisandre._

 _If I look back I am lost_ , Jon told himself and turned to the other side, trying to find a semblance of sleep. He has yet to speak to Val, but that was something that could wait until tomorrow.

Yet it was impossible for him to escape his guilt

 _You are a liar_ , the merciless voice in his mind whispered. _Arya is not the only reason you accepted. You were always jealous of Robb. You wanted to be Lord of Winterfell. Do not deny it._

 _It is true,_ Jon whispered to himself, a sharp pain twisting his heart. _Maybe Lady Stark was right all along. Maybe all bastards harbor such dark ambitions in their hearts._

 _Yes_ , he thought, feeling a strange sense of relief washing over him in that moment of truth. _I have always wanted it._

It was in the middle of the night when he was woken by a sudden noise. He instinctively grabbed for his blade, but then he felt something sharp at his neck.

 _A dagger_ , he thought and found the shape of a person leaning above him in the half-lit darkness of his chambers.

"Who?" he asked into the darkness, grabbed the person's arm and pulled hard. With a quick motion their positions were reversed.

The light falling from the windows above him revealed the person's face to him.

It was Val, smiling at him in amusement.

"It seems you got me, Lord Crow," she replied and Jon let go off her hand, moving away from her.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, still a little stunned by her sudden presence.

She gave him a brilliant smile and sat up, her dagger still in hand.

"Are you going to fight me, Lord Crow?" she asked and jerked her head at his sheathed blade.

Jon frowned."Of course not."

"Of course not," she repeated."It was your King who told me that we are supposed to get wed and thus I am here to fulfill his request. You know the custom of my people."

He swallowed hard, feeling a rush of warmth washing over him.

"I wanted to speak with you…," he stuttered, but she put her finger to her lips and moved closer.

"I surprised you and you unarmed me," she chided and moved into his lap. It was only for a brief moment, but he wondered what she would do if he threw her from his lap, but that was soon forgotten when her nimble fingers started to work the bindings of his breeches.

"What are you doing?" he repeated his earlier question, his breath growing labored.

"Giving you what I want," she told him and let go of him to lift her dress over her shoulders.

She wore no further clothes underneath and her full breast hung freely from her chest.

Then she leaned forward and touched her lips to his. They were soft, sweet and warm. Her hands were gentle as they pulled his breeches down.

"Why did you forsake your vows?" she asked in a breathless voice as she lifted herself down on him.

It was wrong or that is what his father would have told him. He saw his blurred face dance before him, followed by Arya's and all the other people he once loved.

Yet it was Arya's dimpled smile that lingered the longest, even as he felt the pleasure stirring inside him.

"I did it for my sister Arya," he told her and kissed her for a long time, until he felt the need to breathe."The Red Woman says she saw her in the fires…wedding the Bastard of Bolton…the son of the man who deposed my family from power. She was only a little girl when I left and I heard terrible things about this Bastard of Bolton."

She didn't comment on that and simply brushed her hands through his dark locks. He closed his eyes and pulled her back into his embrace.

She was riding him heart and fast, burying his fingers into his skin. It has been too long and he couldn't hold back a gasp.

"We will kill this bastard then," she told him firmly, another roll of her hips stifling his answer.

"And then we will safe your sister," she added in a gasp, nibbling on his neck, before bringing her soft lips back to his.

"We will," he answered through gritted teeth and emptied himself inside her.

She crawled off him and rested her head on his chest, her breathing still labored.

"Do you think that King of yours will be satisfied?" she asked after a while, but Jon could only frown. Stannis Baratheon was not the kind of person he wanted to think about right now.

"I suppose the your King will expect me to swear our vows in front of a heart tree or in some other manner…How do people do it in the South?"

 _I have no right to swear a vow before such a holy tree_ , Jon knew but the King will insist on a proper ceremony.

He touched her soft hair.

"They go to a Sept meant to worship the Seven, but that was never my family's way. We are believers of the Old Faith," he explained softly.

She lifted herself and looked at him with her pale-grey eyes.

"Don't you want to?" she asked.

"I want," he told her, „but it feels so strange. Once I swore my vow to become a brother of the Night's Watch and now I am going to swear another vow."

His words made her chuckle.

"Vows are only words and words are wind, Jon Snow," she whispered to him, but they were not able remove his feeling of shame.

"We will do it tomorrow," he told her and lay back down, „and then we will find your people. Do you think they will come to accept the King's demands?"

Val nodded her head."The desperate ones will. Tormund might as well, but I am not sure about the others. My people are a stubborn lot."

Jon couldn't help but to smile."You will come to see that the Northern lords are just as stubborn. My father always said that dealing with them is like running up against a stone wall over and over again in hopes of making a crack."

"We of the Free Folk never held much love for the Starks, but hearing you speak about him makes me think that he was a fine man."

"Aye, he was," he replied warmly."The finest man I ever knew."

"Do you think he would have agreed with your actions?" she prodded gently, but Jon couldn't help but to give her the truth.

"My father was a man of duty. He would be ashamed of me for forsaking a vow, but I firmly believe that he would have tried to help the Free Folk. He was no cruel man. All would be better if he as alive…," he replied, his voice ringing with emotions.

She lifted herself up and touched his cheek."All men must die."

"Aye, all men must die," he confirmed and pulled her into another embrace.

…


	4. Chapter 4

**Val**

Mance was dragged forward like a mule, bound by a hempen rope and a noose wound around his neck. The other end of the rope was wound around the saddle horn belonging to one of the King's knights. Godry the Giantlayer as the ever bragging knight liked to call himself.

Mance Ryder was meant to die the death of a traitor, dressed only in a thin tunic that left his limps naked to the biting cold. They could have at least allowed him to keep his cloak, the one Dalla patched for him with strips of crimson silk.

Jon tried to reason with the King again and again, but it fell on deaf ears. Stannis Baratheon's mind was as rigid as a frozen block of ice.

 _At least he got to hold his son_ , she thought and took comfort in that. _I did what I could, Dalla._

The day chosen for Mance's death was also fitting. A heavy grey sky hung over the Wall of Ice, the pale sunbeams barely penetrating through the thick clouds.

Even the Wall was weeping or so Jon had told her in the morning. Weeping like many of her brothers and sisters. Many of them tried to hold their tears back, but it was no use.

"We all must choose," the Red Witch proclaimed then, raising her pale hands above her head."Man or women, young or old, lord or peasant, our choices are the same."

The King stood close to Red Witch, his face hard and grim like always. _Stannis Baratheon is not a man meant to be liked by others, but to be feared and respected,_ Jon had told her not long ago.

"We choose light or we choose darkness. We choose good or we choose evil. We choose the true god or we choose the false," she continued and Val looked over to Jon. He looked just as grim as the King, his face unnaturally pale. A few days ago they swore their vows before the heart tree, but little had changed about him. He was still glum, smiled and she knew why. He was still plagued by guilt and shame, though he didn't voice it openly.

 _I did it for my sister Arya_ , he had told her and Val found no shame in that. She would have done the same for Dalla.

"The King Beyond-the-Wall is no exception," the Red Witch continued, her red robes fluttering in the upcoming gust of wind.

Mance walked slowly and tried to face his death with a smile on his lips, but when he saw the wooden cage prepared for him, his courage failed him. The King's knights made it from the trees of the haunted forest. They bent and twisted saplings, branches, boughs around and through each other to weave a wooden lattice, that was placed high above a deep pit filled with logs, leaves and kindling.

"No!" Mance cried out, recoiling from the sight, his voice different and strange to her ears. Maybe it was just the fear that changed him.

"No!" he cried out again."This is not right. I am not the King…," he stuttered, but his words were taken from him when the Giantslayer yanked on the rope. Mance stumbled forward and struggled against the pull of the rope. He was bloody when the other knights shoved him into the cage, before hoisting him up into the air.

She gritted her teeth, trying to still her boiling blood.

"Free Folk!" the Red Witch shouted, her voice echoing over the crowd."Here stands your King of lies. And here is the horn the he promised would bring down the Wall," the Red Witch added as the King's knights brought forth the Horn of Joramun. It was black and branded with gold, eight feet long and covered in ancient runes. Mance found it in an ancient grave beneath beneath and glacier high up in the Frostfangs. Whether it was truly the Horn of Winter Val didn't know.

 _Maybe it was just a simple horn_ , she thought and glimpsed over to her captured brothers and sisters. For them it was the symbol for a better future that was now taken from them. She saw it etched in their faces as they watched the horn lifted up into the air.

"This is the Horn of Darkness!" the Red Witch declared."If the Wall falls, night falls as well, the long night that will never end. It must not happen, it will not happen! The Lord of Light has seen his children in their peril and sent a champion to them, Azor Ahai reborn," she added and waved her hands towards the King.

He wanted Val and Jon to stand beside him, but Jon argued and managed to convince the King.

"Free Folk!" Lady Melisandre cried out again and spread her hands wide."Behold the fate of those who choose darkness!"

As if through magic the horn burst into flames, feeding on the wood and making the runes shimmer. Then the King's yanked on the rope and what was left of the horn tumbled down into the fire pit beneath.

Mance was an even poorer sight. He clawed at the noose around his neck like a madman, screaming words of treachery and witchery, even denying his Kingship. It was like a stab into the guts, but his mad laugh made even Val shudder. She thanked the gods that Dalla wasn't here to witness Mance's death and shame.

"It will soon be over," Jon whispered, his breath rising from his mouth like mist. Then he jerked his head towards the new Lord Commander, Ser Denys Mallister.

He sat perched on a black garron, his black wool cloak bellowing behind him like a dark shadow.

He was surrounded by two-hundred men, each armed with a spear and their faces hidden beneath the hoods of their cloaks.

Val continued to watch, but tried to block out Mance's shrill cries. He was clutching the bars of his cage, sobbing and begging for mercy.

Then she felt Jon's hand enclosing hers and he leaned closer to whisper into her ear.

"Now," he told her, but Val didn't know what to make of his words until three of the crows unslung their bows and sent their arrows flying. One arrow hit him in the chest, one in the gut another in the throat. Limply the Mance slid to the ground of the cage and was swallowed by the flames.

"Now his Watch is done," Jon whispered. It was fitting she supposed, since Mance was once one of them, before Dalla exchange his black cloak for one slashed with bright red silk.

"The King will not like that," she whispered back to Jon, before lifting her head to get a glimpse at the King. He was scowling, his face contorted into a grimace of anger.

"The Lord of Light made the sun and moon and stars to lighten our way and gave us fire to keep the night away," the Red With continued to address Val's people."Nobody can withstand his flames."

"Nobody can withstand his flames," the knight's repeated, before the Red Witch continued with the spectacle.

"Free Folk! Your false gods cannot help you, your false horn did not save you and your false King brought you only death, despair, defeat, but there stands the true King. Behold his Glory!"

Then the King stepped forward and drew his blade. _Lightbringer_ , Sam and old Master Aemon had called it, but this name meant nothing to her.

Yet it was a fitting name for the sword. It glowed red, yellow and orange as if brimming with light. It was the sun forged into steel.

Val held no love for the King or the Red Witch, but was awed by the spectacle. She wondered if it was really able to kill the Others.

"Westeros has only one King," the King spoke at last, his harsh voice echoing over the pit."With this sword I will defend my subjects and destroy those who threaten them. Bend the knee and I promise you food, land and justice. Kneel and live or go and die. The choice is yours."

Then he slipped the glowing sword back into the scabbard.

"Open the gates!" she heard the echoing voices of the crows."Open the Gates!"

And thus the stockade gates were opened and her people freed.

"Come," whispered the Red Witch. She sounded like a mother trying to entice her children."Come to the light or run back to the darkness. If you choose life, come to me."

And they came. Some were limping and others walked upright, but that didn't mean anything. _Those choosing to cross were all kneelers_. _I am one of them_ , she thought. _That is our price for survival._

As they passed the knights handed each man, woman and child a piece of white weirwood, a stick , a splintered branch as pale as broken bone and a spray of blood-red leaves to cast into the still burning flames.

At the sight of the burning weirwood even Jon grew anxious. He was flexing his fingers like a madman.

The first one to kneel was the new Magnar of Thenn. Val knew his father well and they looked much alike safe for their height. Then came Rattelshirt, his armor made of bones and boiled leather ringing with it's familiar clattering tune.

That he knelt was an even a greater surprise, but she was sure that the man had no intention intention to keep faith.

Lesser leaders followed, among them two clan chiefs of the Hornfoot men, the young son of Alfyn Crowkiller, Harma Dogshead's brother Halleck and several more, but all of them bending their knees before the King with the glowing sword.

Having shown done their expected duty they each received a warm soup, bread and proper clothing.

It was a mummer's show, but she had no doubt that the King would demand the same from Tormund and the others.

When it was finally over Jon led her away. As they passed Ser Alliser and his companions gave them hostile looks. Among them was the frog-faced man named Janos Slynt who also wanted to be Lord Commander. Yet he only received a few meager votes.

"That trick with the arrows was your idea, wasn't it?" she asked warmly.

A ghost of a smile tugged on his lips.

"It was my idea, but it was the Lord Commander who went through with it. Hanging or a blade to the neck is the way oathbreakers are meant to die, not through the flames meant to work magic."

"Well, this Alliser Thorne and the frog-faced lord seemed to enjoy it," she remarked coldly."I saw them both smiling."

Jon's smile disappeared instantly.

"Janos Slynt will be sent away from Castle Black. Ser Deny's Mallister doesn't like his presence here, but Ser Alliser is another matter. He is not well-liked but respected. I can't do anything about him."

Val nodded her head and the both of them made her way back to the tower, where Gilly was awaiting her in company of Sam.

Sam the Slayer didn't partake in the execution, fearing he might collapse by witnessing such a gruesome act.

"Is it done?" the Gilly asked her, rocking her babe in her arms."Did they burn him?"

"They did," Jon confirmed, „but Mance Ryder died through an arrow and not through the flames. Ser Denys granted him a proper death."

"That was kind of him," Sam piped in, a book spread before him. It was always like that. Whenever Val saw him he was either reading or hurrying after the old Maester Aemon.

"It had little to do with kindness," Jon explained and sat down next to Sam."He considers Mance Ryder an oathbreaker, but he holds little love for such displays of power."

"And did your people kneel?" Sam asked Val.

"A few hundred," she confirmed and picked her nephew out of his cradle, „but there are many more of us lurking beyond the Wall. It is very likely that they will assemble around Tormund. His host will be much bigger and I doubt he will kneel down to the King. Tormund's men are of a different kind."

Sam paled."Do you think there will be another fight?"

Jon looked grave and Val gave Sam an encouraging smile.

"I will speak with Tormund. He is stubborn, but no fool."

Jon sighed and nodded his head in agreement."I will speak to the King. I will make him understand that another spectacle like today will not help to bring the Free Folk on our side."

…


	5. Chapter 5

**Jon**

Jon found the King surrounded by his knights. Most of them were Queen's men, but they served him as willingly as his Queen.

"Your Grace," announced King Stannis' pale-faced squire."I bring you Lord Stark."

Jon wanted to kneel, but the King gave a quick jerk with his head and spoke.

"No need for that, Lord Stark. I assume you know my knights and captains."

"I do," Jon confirmed and let his gaze sweep over the group of men. He tried to learn all their names, but that didn't change he low opinion most of them seemed harbor for him. For them he was an upstart bastard and nothing more.

"There is wine for you or boiled water with lemons."

Jon was not in the mood for wine and the bitter water the King liked to slur down everyday didn't entice him either.

"No, I am fine," he told the King who gave him a grim nod and came straight to the point.

"I understand what you did for Mance Ryder, but I don't like it when people are going against my orders.

"It was Ser Denys who gave the order, your Grace," Jon replied, but the King cut him off.

"Do you think me a fool?" The King asked."It was your idea."

Jon sighed and nodded his head in confirmation.

"I didn't want him to suffer…death is enough punishment," Jon explained honestly."Forgive me."

The King nodded his head."You are forgiven, but next time I want to be informed beforehand. Is that understood?"

"Understood," Jon countered and the King moved on to the next point.

"Yet it is not the topic of Mance Ryder that I want to talk about," King Stannis added and picked several raven scrolls from the table before him.

"I have news from your Lords," the King announced."Tell me about Mors Umber."

Jon swallowed and unfurled the scroll, before turning his attention back to the King.

"He is the the Greatjon's brother and they call him the Crowfood. A crow once took him for dead and pecked out his eye. He caught the bird in his fist and bit its head off. When he was younger he was also a fearsome fighter. His sons died at the Trident, his wife in childbed and his only daughter was carried off by Wildlings."

The King nodded his head and braced himself on the table."That is why he wants Mance's head."

"Probably," Jon confirmed."He hates Wildlings. He likes to display the skulls of those he killed in his solar. Father told me about it."

"I care not for the man's obscure habits," the King replied."Can he be trusted?"

"Mors Umber is one of my father's most loyal bannermen. Grant him what he asks of you and he will fight for you. Give him Mance's head and pardon his brother like he asks of you in this letter. I doubt that his brother Hother Umber really serves the Bolton's. The only reason that comes to my mind would be that they hold the Greatjon captive, but if you want to be sure about his loyalty have him swear an oath before a heart tree."

"And you think having him swear an oath before a tree will work?" Godry the Giantslayer asked, his voice ringing with amusment.

"I forgot that you Northmen worship them as gods," Ser Clayton Sluggs added quickly."What sort of god allows himself to be pissed upon by dogs?"

Jon flexed his hand and tried to ignore his biting comment.

"Call Mors Umbers here," Jon asked of the King."Let me speak to him from face to face. We will have need of him if we are to fight against the Boltons."

The King grimaced and picked the other raven rolls from the heap, before sorting them.

"There are others who replied to our call," King Stannis informed him and handed him the scrolls.

"One raven came from a certain Lady Mormont and another from Arnolf Karstark," the King explained.

"This Mormont girl has need of manners, but Arnolf Karstark seems enthusiastic enough," he added.

Jon read first Lady Mormont's written words and couldn't help but to smile.

 _Bear Island_ _knows no king but the_ _King in the North_ _, whose name is_ _Stark_ _._

"That seems to amuse you?" the King asked and Jon brushed the smile from his lips.

"Lyanna Mormont is a girl of ten. She does not know what she says, but she still promises us help. In regards to Arnolf Karstark…he seems too eager for my taste. I know him, your Grace. He is a lickspittle and who will demand much in exchange for his help. Besides, the Karstarks betrayed my brother. I wouldn't trust him, but if you must call him here to the Wall and let him swear his fealty before the heart tree."

Godry the Giantslayer disagreed."If we pardon this Mors Umber you will make us look weak, Stark. It would be better to burn Last Hearth to the ground and ride to war with the Crowfood's head mounted on a spear, as a lesson to the next Lord who presumes to offer only half."

Jon tried to keep his growing frustration at bay and met the King's gaze.

"Half is better than none," Jon declared."Besides, he is my lord. Let me be the one to pardon him if you fear to loose your face, your Grace."

"You are not the King are you, Stark?" Sluggs asked tauntingly.

"I never assumed such a title," Jon replied through gritted teeth."I am only trying to help us to an army. Pride does not serve us well in our situation, your Grace. Compromises are necessary or you will fail. Allow me to call Mors Umber to the Wall. He hates the Wildlings, but he is no man without reason. Ask the same of Lord Karstark and remind him of the vow he is expected to swear. He is a lickspittle, but vows are another matter. Even Arnolf Karstark would not swear a false vow in face of a heart tree. If he refuses to come you will know how sincere his intentions really are."

Godry snorted."Now, you are again harping on about those trees…," he muttered but the King's sharp gaze silenced him.

"Be quiet," the King snapped when the knight made and attempt to speak again."I want to speak alone with Lord Snow.

Scowling Godry the Kingslayer followed after the others.

Once they were alone the King turned back to Jon.

"I sent my Onion Knight to White Harbour as this Lord Manderly refuses to answer my call. What do you think of the man?"

"His family owes much to the Starks," Jon explained."The only reason for his silence has to be that one of his family members is hostage."

"Very well," the King said and straightened himself."How long do you think will Lady Stark need to bring this Tormund before us?"

"Val assured me that she will able to return to us in a few weeks," he told the King."She plans to leave tomorrow if that pleases you, your Grace."

"It pleases me," the King confirmed and sighed."And it gives us time to call these Lords to us. I am inclined to follow your suggestion, even though I don't like it. However, I value your honest opinion. Nobody can call you a dishonest man, Lord Snow. You are much like my Onion Knight."

Jon swallowed, unsure if he should thank the King for this compliment. He decided to be polite.

"I am honored," Jon replied, but the King scoffed.

"Spare me your politeness, Lord Stark," the King replied."Go back and make sure that Lady Stark knows her duty. Tell her I know mine. There will be no more sacrifices, but I expect of this Tormund Giantsbane and his men to swear fealty to me. They can even swear it before one of those trees they like so much. Make that clear to Lady Stark and I will be pleased."

Jon bowed his head in acceptance.

"I understand, your Grace," he replied and returned to the tower. He was surprised to find Val without Gilly's presence, but it was better that way. She will depart tomorrow and he wanted to speak alone with her.

She sat next to her nephew's cradle, watching the comings and goings of Castle Black through the open window.

"Are you not cold?" he asked when he realized that she was only dressed in a wool shift.

Val rolled her eyes and rose to her feet, before making her way over to the bed.

"I was born in the cold and I will probably die in the cold if the Long Night kills us all," she replied.

"We will not die," he told her but she gave him an empty smile.

"We of the Free Folk see death as our constant companion, "she explained and pulled off her dress, before moving under the fur."That is why we try to live every moment as if it is our last."

Then she smiled and patted on the bed.

"Won't you come and tell me what the grim kneeler King wants from me?"

Jon sighed and pulled off his tunic and boots, but she stopped him before he was able to slip under the furs.

"Off with it," she ordered him and sat up to open the binding of his breeches."Now tell me?"

Jon helped her, before slipping under the fur.

"He said a lot," Jon told her and felt her warm body pressed against his. How could he have thought that she was cold?"He told me that there won't be any more fire sacrifices, but that he still expects Tormund to swear fealty to him. He won't even have to kneel and can swear his vows by his own godds. It is better than nothing."

She sighed and brushed her hand through his hair.

"Better than nothing, but Tormund will not like it. He is a stubborn mule," she added and kissed his neck.

Jon grasped her hair and pulled her into a kiss that seemed to last forever.

He had been inside her a dozen of times, but her lips were of as ever and her nimble body pressed against him was enough to forget the grim future.

He should feel guilty, he knew but it was too late for such thoughts of regret.

When he opened his eyes again he found her smiling down at him, her hand again brushing through his hair.

"Where is your mind, Lord Crow?" she asked teasingly, rubbing herself against him.

He stifled a gasp and pulled her down to kiss her.

…


End file.
